Wednesday, April 6, 2011


April 6, 2011 is today in St. Louis, Missouri, USA.  It is a gloriously warm windy day.  I debated whether to write this in my garden blog or my everyday blog, .  I was at the barn on a mission to retrieve the covers before they either blew away or they ripped the rose bushes out of the beds.  The last two nights in our valley, we have had heavy frosts.  The only thing I covered were my roses.  I had drastically cut them back, two of them had been moved to new locations over the weekend so I was very afraid their foliage would be damaged.   We were very fortunate we didn't loose all of them this winter.

Last year was extremely hard on the roses, the Japanese beetles ravaging them and fighting the blackspot from all the moisture we had (October was the wettest October ever). They were defoliated so many times.  Spraying with baking soda didn't help because the rain and heavy dews continually washed it off.  It never had a chance to change the PH on the plants.
I only lost two of my bushes. Hooray.  That isn't the the reason why I am quickly composing this blog.  I am writing this blog in praise of the Wind and the Sun.  On impulse I decided to take my bed sheet wash down with me and dry it on the line.  It is a make do set up which has given me many moments of sighing blissfully.

For years I had been telling my husband to set me poles in the ground and string me some hanging lines.  I love to hang clothes.  It is a very relaxing job (unless you are fighting and cussing the wind or if it is too cold to be hanging out).  Today is the perfect hanging day.  There is a medium wind that is steadily blowing, not gusting.  The sun is out only covered by light fluffy clouds.  What do I use to hang on since Hunny hasn't done the deed.  I did the deed.

There was an 8ft x 8ft set up of scaffolding next to the garden fence.  It had been set up to discourage the deer from charging down the pasture hill and vaulting into the enclosed garden.  I wiggled, pushed, heaved and drug the scaffolding away from the fence and went to retrieve the rope I had bought (years ago) from the garden shed.  I strung that rope back and forth across the scaffolding.  The only problem is it is only about 5 feet off the ground.  I have to fold things which are long to keep them from dragging on the ground.  Sheets I just fold in half and hang the short edge on one line and then hang the other short edge on annother line. 

I hung the sheets before I started uncovering the roses and doing the barn chores.  Barn chores are feeding the cats and chickens.  By the time I finished every thing the sheets were ready to be folded.  They smelled so heavenly.  Did you ever notice how different sheets smell in the different seasons?  Sheets dried in the spring smell soft and cool.  Summer sheets have a warm hot clean smell (cotton kissed by the sun has a very distinctive smell.  Ask Yankee candles, they have a candle in that scent that is wonderful).  Winter sheets have an icy smell, like the air just before it snows.  Then there are fall sheets.  According to the day you will have a miriad of smells.  The sharp smell of damp leaves, the crisp smells of a frost coming on, the bright smells of an over warm day on the fallen leaves, if you have recently had a rain, those autumn smells change even more.  Whatever the season, what ever the smells, it all translates to a sighing experience to lay down on those sheets which have been dried by nature. 

If you have never put clothes on the line to dry, try it, it is a life altering experience.  Not to mention the money you are saving on the electric bill.

Thanks for sharing time with me.
  I share more of what's happening on the farm here:

Containing articles on cooking, crafts, quilting, stories, ect.
New article on "The Wedding quilt"
Not a garden blog.  There are articles which have nothing to do with creating or gardening. 
There are blogs on the new born baby kittens we found and are mothering.  It is a blog where I will sometimes voice my opinions which will always be environmentally friendly.

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